Guidance
by Desert Starr
Summary: Before the outbreaks in Raccoon and Rockfort, Alexia Ashford comes onto the Umbrella scene, and encounters someone who could become her greatest ally.
1. First Encounter

"Who let children in here?" William's voice, pitched high indignantly, hissed into his ear as a spidery hand grasped his shoulder.

Albert shrugged to make the younger researcher let go. "Those are the Ashford twins. They took over from Dr. Alexander, remember? They are our peers."

William, his teenaged face pinched into an expression of suspicion, eyed the pair of ten-year-olds who moved among the crowd of top Umbrella researchers. One of them was clearly the dominant sibling: Alexia stood straight with pride etched into her features, while Alfred trailed in his sister's wake, eyes darting about curiously.

"How in God's name did they get here? Christ, look at them! They probably haven't even hit puberty!"

Albert raised an eyebrow at his research partner. "Settle down, William. We had people saying the same things about us when we became Dr. Marcus' assistants, didn't we?"

"Yes, but we had qualifications! We had _degrees_, Albert, and experience in the Training Facility! What could two elementary-aged _children_ bring the company?" As his temper rose, William Birkin's voice lowered, until he was whispering venomously.

Sighing internally, Albert turned away, drawing William with him. "Clearly they have something to contribute, or Lord Spencer wouldn't have given them command of Rockfort." Since the thinner, darker young man remained truculent, Albert pressed a bill into his hands and sent him off to the bar along one end of the ballroom with an order for a dry vodka martini and whatever William felt like imbibing.

When he turned back around, preparing to mingle once more with the older researchers, he was met with two heads of blond hair level with his waist, and four pairs of intensely blue eyes peering up at him. He met their gaze impassively, and they were able to see his clear-ice colored eyes since protocol forbade him from wearing his sunglasses. "Ah, Mr. and Ms. Ashford. I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I have heard good things about you."

They shook his outstretched hand in turn, and as predicted, Alexia was the one to speak. "Likewise, Dr. Wesker. Our father always had good things to say about you and Dr. Birkin. Is he here?" Her voice was clear, high and sweet like any other girl's, but he saw the cunning behind her innocent expression. This was a sharp one, no doubt about it. He would have to keep a close eye on her as time progressed.

"Yes, William should be around shortly. I regret that our mentor Dr. Marcus could not make it; he was looking forward to meeting the grandchildren of his old friend Prof. Edward, but circumstances at the lab made him stay." The polite lie fell smoothly from his lips: Marcus was an even more stubborn misanthrope than William, and had shooed his protégés off professing his relief that he didn't have to go to the event. Umbrella hosted parties like this periodically to bring their top officials together, allowing them time to exchange ideas and news with their counterparts from other departments and other parts of the globe.

Alexia gave him a winsome smile. "That _is_ too bad. We would have liked to meet him as well, but we understand. Life has been busy for us as well, since Father retired."

Albert saw something, some hidden emotion, flash through Alfred's eyes as his sister spoke, but Albert said nothing, and left the thought in the back of his mind for later contemplation. "Without a doubt. I hope things have been going well for you since you took over from Dr. Alexander," Albert said smoothly, then turned to the side as William approached. He accepted his drink and ushered the younger researcher forward, fighting a smirk at the expression on William's face.

Alexia redirected her smile at William, heedless of the lanky young man's thinly-veiled scowl. "Ah, you must be Dr. Birkin. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Alexia Ashford, and this is my brother Alfred."

William shook their hands with bad grace. "Yes, a pleasure. Would you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with Dr. Wesker privately," he said tersely, his facial muscles stiff until the twins bobbed their heads politely and moved off.

Before William could open his mouth to begin, Albert grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer. "You would do well to lose the attitude, and try being polite for once in your life. Whether you like it or not, they outrank us," he growled, releasing his partner's shoulder when William yanked it away.

"Whatever, Al. Look: I don't like them. They can't have climbed that high in the ranks without help. You heard what Dr. Marcus said about them! The Ashfords have been laughing-stock since Alexander took the reins. How are his ten-year-old brats supposed to do any better?"

"Marcus is a paranoid old man, William; get over yourself. Whatever issue you have with them, at least have the wit to keep it to yourself while we're in the same space." Sometimes, William forgot that outside of the lab he had people around him that he needed not to insult. If he had been able to get away with just going by himself, Albert would have done so without hesitation, for of the two heads of research in the Arklay lab, he was the one with any social skill or inclination.

With a huff, William turned and stalked off to nurse his glass of white wine somewhere he didn't have to listen to his nagging partner or see the Ashford brats. Albert took a sip of his martini – taking a moment to appreciate the fact that the bartender knew how to make a martini appropriately dry – and wandered in the other direction. As long as William was no longer in his company, he could make an ass of himself and Albert could worry less about being embarrassed by proxy. He'd already done his rounds and been perfectly amiable and polite to the other officials.

Seeking a moment of solitude so he could enjoy his drink and recharge a little, Albert wove through the crowd and made it to a sliding glass door that led out into a small balcony. He strode up to the rail and braced his arms across the banister, staring absently across the lawn, a night-darkened emerald sheet gilt with silver moonlight.

There was certainly a lot to think about. Most of the banter he had exchanged with the older researchers was idle chatter. He and William were still fairly new to Umbrella's research division, and their youth was enough to bring quite a bit of attention to them. William had recently turned nineteen, and Albert twenty-one; had they not both skimmed through schooling and gotten doctorates at shockingly young ages, they would have entered Umbrella's ranks as mere lab assistants. Instead, after that year in the Management Training Facility, Dr. Marcus had taken them specially under his wing until they proved ready to lead their own testing facility.

The two of them made a good team. William was cut from the same cloth as Dr. Marcus: blindingly intelligent and single-minded, once he latched onto something and followed it to its end, little could deter him. William had much more of a mind for the virology than Albert did. Albert was hardly stupid, but while William plowed through the intensive research, Albert could turn his attention to the other aspects of running the Arklay lab. He had more of a head for business, and for people. It was Albert the research team looked to as their leader, while William as often as not was pursuing his own project.

Between the two of them, they had even come to outshine Dr. Marcus' work with the improvements they had made to the tyrant virus. Other labs were also working with tyrant, but Marcus' protégés were making by far the best progress. It was a matter of no little pride, and the reason the heads of the Parisian lab had approached him with ice in their smiles earlier in the evening. Ever the gentleman, Albert had exchanged pleasantries and obliged them with a brief discussion of their mutual goals. They were clearly digging for more information on the Tyrant Project, but Albert managed to deflect their curiosity and learn a little about the Nemesis Project, which was still in its infancy.

There was one other lab that had been given samples of the tyrant virus. That lab was based on Rockfort island, and run by a ten-year-old prodigy. He knew more about the Ashford twins than most people, since he had the ears of Dr. Marcus and Lord Spencer both. He knew that Alexander Ashford had dedicated his whole life to genetics, and since no one had heard anything about the twins' _mother_, Albert had his suspicions about the two children. Certainly, the astounding intelligence and cleverness exhibited by Alexia was not a natural thing.

That train of thought led back to the mental note Albert had taken of the meeker of the twins. Alfred, throughout the interactions, had remained silent, deferring to Alexia to make the speeches and decisions. It was clear that their relationship was an interesting one, since one of them was so much more advanced cognitively. Alexia's mind worked the way an adult's did, but Albert doubted that Alfred had grown up, mentally, as fast as his sister had.

The two seemed close, though. Because she was so abnormally bright, she had probably been alienated from the beginning: too advanced to care much about the activities of her own age-group, and too young emotionally and physically to participate in anything with her intellectual peers. It was an impasse that Albert himself had encountered, though to a lesser extent. However, he hadn't had a sibling to turn to when he was otherwise friendless, as Alexia did. Perhaps it was that isolation that glued the twins to each other by the hip.

However, despite Alfred's apparent subservience, he was no doormat. Albert had noted the boy's expressions periodically, and it seemed he had his own opinions about matters. Most telling had been his reaction when Alexia mentioned their father retiring. Albert savored the last sip of his martini and considered the flash of emotion across the boy's face.

For all his irrationality, William could have been at least partially right about the twins. The fact that two ten-year-olds, prodigy though one was, had taken up command of an important outpost like Rockfort was peculiar, even for Umbrella. Alexander was hardly so old that there was any need for him to step down, unless he was working on something that wasn't for Umbrella at large to be aware of. Or, perhaps, he had been forced to step down: that sounded more plausible.

But by whom? Who would force Alexander to relinquish all his authority and research to his pre-pubescent children? It was the choice of successor that perplexed Albert; whoever was behind that little coup certainly worked in strange ways. So far, the twins – though it was doubtlessly Alexia who was doing most of the decision-making – had not erred so terribly that the news got around, so perhaps it wasn't as perilous a choice as one might think.

At that point, his musings were interrupted when the door behind him slid open, allowing the chatter from inside to bubble out and into the cool night air. The door slid closed again, cutting off the noise and allowing it to disperse among the errant breeze. Light, agile footsteps padded up behind him as in Albert's peripheral vision the indistinct blur of movement resolved into a slim figure that approached the railing nearby. Alexia crossed her arms on the top of the banister and rested her chin on them, appearing to be ignorant of his presence.

They both stood in companionable silence for a brief spell, then Alexia addressed him without turning. "You came out here to get a breather too?" she asked casually.

Albert spun the martini glass between his fingers. "Yes."

"It's pretty stuffy in there with all those people blowing hot air," Alexia observed, then giggled to herself. "Is it like that all the time?"

"Generally."

Alexia turned her head, resting her cheek on her folded arms to look at him. "You don't talk much." It was a statement rather than a question, so he didn't reply. She continued regarding him for a while, then spoke up once more, her voice softer and without the flippancy. "I kind of envy you."

That got him to tilt his head in her direction, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You've got it so much easier. You have a mentor, and a partner who knows what he's doing. And you don't have everyone breathing down your neck all the time, expecting you to mess up because you're just a kid." Her lower lip stuck out in a pout, and Albert could tell that she was just fishing for sympathy. The look in her eyes was not that of a girl pushed to her limits and beyond: it was the look of someone who knew very well what she was getting herself into, knew what she wanted, and would do a lot to get it.

So Albert returned to gazing across the lawns, and hummed a noncommittal "True."

The quiet huff she gave brought the faintest of smirks to his lips. "Miss Ashford, you are looking for pity from the wrong person. You need to work on your acting skills before you will get anything from me."

Vaguely, he saw Alexia withdraw from the rail and cross her arms. "Fine then, since you saw through me so fast."

"Even if I had not, now I would know that your speech was a bluff." Albert smirked slightly at the scowl he saw in the corner of his eye. "The longer you spend in this company, the more you need learn not to be so transparent in your behavior."

"Well, since you seem to be such a master at dissembling, would you care to give this naïve little waif some tips?"

The sarcasm and frustration in her voice was enough that he allowed the smirk to slide across his mouth, tugging up one corner. "Not if you keep trying to sting me with verbal barbs, Miss Ashford."

She snorted. "Don't tell me you actually care what I say."

"I don't," he agreed mildly. "But neither am I inclined to assist someone who doesn't know how to check her temper."

"I do know how to control my temper!" Alexia cried indignantly.

"Do you?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I do!" She stamped her foot belligerently.

"Mmh," he hummed wryly. "Indeed."

Finally realizing that he was deliberately baiting her, Alexia sucked in a deep breath to calm her rising ire, and exhaled heavily.

"Good," Albert praised, and Alexia was hard-pressed not to snap at him again. He chuckled under his breath. "You aren't used to people talking back to you, are you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not really," she admitted, trying not to sound petulant.

His smirk turned cruel. "Get used to it."

Alexia took a step closer to him, and Albert finally turned to face her, leaning casually against the rail. He watched her, keeping his head tilted just enough that he wasn't quite looking down his nose at her. His posture was loose and confident, and he regarded the slender girl with an impassive expression. "You had another reason to come out here besides looking for sympathy points. I don't feel like playing diplomatic tag with you, so get to the point." He could have easily spoken down to her with a tone of impatience, but his inflectionless voice softened the curt demand.

Once more with her arms crossed over her chest, Alexia glowered up at him for a moment before replying. "Believe it or not, I was just coming out here to chat with someone who _isn't_ old enough to be my grandfather." She paused, as if deliberating, and then added, "And to ask you why your partner Birkin hates my guts. He's been giving me and Alfred evil looks since we got here."

He snorted in sardonic amusement. "William is jealous. Before now, he had held the title of youngest lead researcher, and for there to be someone else to break his record as resoundingly as you have, it is a slap to his ego."

Alexia brought a hand up to her face and giggled into it, eyes dancing. "He's jealous because I'm so young?" When Albert nodded slightly, her giggled turned into full laughter, and she leaned against the railing for support.

Had Albert been a good friend, he might have not told the blunt truth, but as far as he was concerned, William's irrational jealousy was childish, and if he was laughed at for it, it was hardly undeserved. So while Alexia struggled to contain her mirth, Albert turned to look through the glass doors at the party still going on within. The crowd had thinned out slightly, and the ones remaining had more or less organized themselves into small groups with their heads together in deep discussion, leaving the open floor to the ones who floated from conversation to conversation. Among those scattered few he saw Alfred Ashford, looking slightly overwhelmed to be left alone among all these people.

Once Alexia's laughter had faded, Albert addressed her while still watching Alfred drift aimlessly. "Your brother looks rather lost in there without you," he commented.

Alexia immediately perked up, her posture becoming alert and defensive as she turned to watch Alfred. Since he seemed not to be in any immediate trouble, she turned to Albert again, eying him warily. "He'll be okay," she asserted.

Ah, so she was protective of her twin brother. He smirked slightly and shook his head. "Really, Miss Ashford, you should be more on your guard. Now I know that your brother means much to you, and were I an enemy I could very easily use that against you."

She bristled visibly. "_Are_ you an enemy, then?"

"Not unless you think I should be," he responded wryly, eyebrows arched high on his brow. Teasing this little girl was quite amusing; he didn't get much of a chance to bait many people anymore. Even better was that she was clearly not used to being on the receiving end of such verbal sparring: she was used to being the brightest and highest-ranking one in her little kingdom, where no one dared speak back. Certainly she was a smart girl, but she had a lot to learn if she was going to last long in Umbrella.

Alexia had narrowed her eyes into suspicious slits, and he returned the look neutrally. They both knew that she couldn't afford to make enemies of one of the most influential researchers in Umbrella, so it was Alexia who diverted her gaze first, back toward the sliding door to watch her brother. "Alfred can take care of himself," she said, though in a way that Albert could tell she was saying it as much to reassure herself.

"Not in there," Albert said, half under his breath as he too watched the ballroom.

"What?" Alexia turned to face him fully again, brows furrowed indignantly.

He hadn't meant to speak aloud, but since he had, Albert elaborated. "If it is easy for me to read and goad you, Miss Ashford, it is even easier for the others. This high in Umbrella, you need to be a canny politician as well as a brilliant researcher if you want to survive. The competition is cutthroat, and the learning curve providentially steep. Most of _them_ have been playing this game longer than you have been alive, and unless you are the likes of Dr. Marcus, you will never be high enough in the pecking order to forget that."

Alexia was watching him soberly, her stance relaxing as the seriousness of his tone sank in. He was giving her a good piece of advice, and she nodded slightly in assent. Despite his arrogance, she had done well to choose him to speak with. He was much easier to talk to than the old farts inside, and he seemed to actually take her seriously. And, if she was honest with herself, she didn't mind the bantering as much as she would were it coming from someone back home. He was one of the few who had the inclination and ability match her wit for wit, and she couldn't deny that she appreciated the challenge.

Alexia roused herself before she could fall deeper into introspection and started for the sliding glass door. "Well, I should go rescue Alfred. Thank you for the _endlessly_ entertaining conversation, Dr. Wesker, and for the advice." She aimed a smirk over her shoulder before reentering the ballroom and mincing over to her brother. Albert watched as Alfred noticed her almost immediately, and trotted over to meet her, looking relieved. They slipped into the dwindling crowd and out of his sight.

Albert lingered on the balcony for another minute or two, then reluctantly pushed away from the rail and followed Alexia's lead back inside. The temperature rose noticeably, and the clean crispness of dew-laden wind was replaced by the muggy almost-smell that occurred where there were masses of humanity all packed together. Albert heaved an internal sigh and set out to find William so they could leave. He knew that if he was tired of this little gala that his misanthropic partner was about to pull his hair out by the roots.

* * *

><p><strong>This has been bouncing around in my head for a while, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I put it on paper. This might go somewhere later, but for now it'll stay as-is since I already have quite a bit on my plate. Really, I just wrote this for shits and giggles, and because I started having a lot of fun with the interactions.<strong>

**If you're wondering: yes, I did fudge a detail or two. Alexia and Alfred didn't take over Rockfort until she was about to put herself into cryostasis, which takes place two years after this does, but I decided to fudge that date so that this interaction could actually take place, and to give me room for more fun to be had before the fifteen-year-long skip, should I choose to continue this.**

**Really, I wish there was more attention paid to the Ashford twins. You don't hear much about them before Alexia's cryostasis(or at least I haven't) and I think it could be fun to see what happens when you throw a freakishly smart ten-year-old into a bed of serpents like Umbrella's ranking researchers. Clearly, she'd be smart enough to navigate around most of the land mines, but as isolated and **_**young**_** as she was, she would have to work hard at not fucking up.**

**Also, another point that people might wonder about: I mentioned that Wesker has Spencer's ear as well as Marcus'. I say this because, given the whole Project W thing and Wesker being one of the only survivors, it seems to me that Spencer would have a vested interest in keeping an eye on and open communications with him. That and I could see Wesker as worming his way into Spencer's favor even without that helping him.**

**And before anyone wonders why William got booze as well, remember that this is like 1981, and the act that prohibited the sale of alcohol to people under twenty-one in the United States was enacted in '84. Before that it varied from place to place, but at that point the US generally followed the overall trend of eighteen being the legal drinking age. -preens- Desert did her research.**

**But enough of me being a sleep-deprived moron.**


	2. Visiting

**Unless you didn't realize by now, I'm just going to let my Muse chase this hare until it goes to ground, so that I can get some room in my brain for finishing my other fics. Who knows how much more I'll get out of her, but when I run out of juice for this one, don't expect it to update for a while.**

* * *

><p>"William."<p>

William remained hunched over the lab bench, shuffling through slides taken from an electron microscope. Though the room was utterly silent except for the faint hum of the overhead lights and the computer consoles, the lanky researcher was absorbed in his own world and blind to his surroundings.

That only lasted until Albert grabbed his shoulder and gave it a strong shake. "William!"

"Yah! What? Jesus, Albert, what?" William squawked in alarm and nearly jumped off the stool, clutching a hand to his chest as if to still his heart's frantic palpitations.

Albert folded his arms, suppressing the desire to scowl. "I'm leaving. I won't be back for a few days, so don't wait up. I suggest that you take a break while I'm gone – you look awful. When was the last time you went home?"

William scratched his head. "Uh…"

Wrinkling his nose, Albert took a step back, preparing to leave. "Go take a shower and get some rest. We can get back to work when I return."

"Where are you going?" William called, standing up from the stool, still looking perplexed.

"To pay a long-overdue visit, since we can't very well host guests _here_," Albert replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. After all, they only had a fully-functioning mansion sitting over their heads. William had the grace to avert his face and look chagrinned until his partner was out the door. Then, naturally, he went right back to the slides.

Albert left William's lab and set off through the facility until he reached the Express' Arklay terminal. Since the Training Facility was still in operation, and the Arklay lab doing booming business, the Express ran in an underground triangle to bring people between the two facilities and Raccoon proper.

The train soon pulled into the terminal and Albert stood aside to let the arriving passengers disembark. To his surprise, he saw James Marcus step off the train; before Marcus noticed him, Albert stepped up, snatching his attention.

"Ah, Albert. Just the man I was looking for." Marcus' expression folded into something that was almost a smile.

"What brings you to Arklay, Doctor? I thought you were busy working with T," Albert responded, and the surprise in his voice was not contrived. It was quite rare for the old man to ever leave the little world he had carved for himself.

Marcus' eyes twinkled slyly. "I just thought I'd come see how you and William were doing. I know Ozwell has you working with T, and I'm curious to see your results."

Ah, that explained it. The possessive old man wanted to be sure they weren't messing up his brainchild. Albert bowed his head slightly. "I think you will be pleased. William is in his lab right now, so he should be able to show you our progress. I regret that I cannot be here to be a proper host, but I have a business trip to attend."

"Oh?" Marcus asked, raised eyebrows carving deep wrinkles on his forehead.

"I have been tendered an invitation to see what the Ashford lab at Rockfort has been developing. Alexia would like to compare notes with me on the strains of T she's been provided with."

As expected, being reminded that yet another lab had been given access to his precious virus brought a scowl to Marcus' face, which he quickly schooled. "Well then, I hope you can keep that little girl from repeating her father's mistakes," he growled.

Albert nodded, and Marcus strode off, fire in his step now that he felt that his precious discovery was in jeopardy. Albert didn't envy William the time he would have allaying Marcus' fears that no, they were not butchering the tyrant virus. With that thought tugging one side of his mouth up in a smirk, Albert stepped onto the Express.

* * *

><p>The island on which the Rockfort base sat was just beyond the hooked tip of South America, meaning that while it was late spring back at the Arklay lab, winter had clutched the island in its frigid claws when Albert stepped onto the tarmac of the base's airstrip. The breath from his lips billowed into a cloud of fog that floated leisurely on the cold, still air until it dispersed.<p>

"Welcome to Rockfort, Dr. Wesker!" Alexia called as she trotted up to him, Alfred in her wake. "I'm so glad you could make it. Let's get inside where it's warm before we get caught up talking."

He trailed gratefully after them across the tarmac. They cut through the base quickly and entered the palatial Ashford home. The inside was decorated lavishly, but like the mansion above the Arklay lab, to Albert it was empty grandeur. Great wealth did not impress him. He made all the properly appreciative comments as he was taken on an abbreviated tour of the palace – or at least, the parts of it he was meant to see.

Throughout the tour, Albert was mildly surprised to note that, on their home turf, Alfred stepped out of his silent shell and led most of the tour while Alexia slipped off to attend to something. The boy was initially unsure of this stranger, but when Albert proved himself to be a courteous guest, Alfred gained confidence and by the end of it they were even conversing casually.

"We've got a bunch more like it in a private collection. Grandfather brought back a lot of art from all his travels," Alfred commented as they passed a handsome carved-wood statuette that was clearly of African make. He seemed to take pride in that fact, and in the architecture of the place, which he pointed out several times.

"This place has been in the Ashford family for generations, hasn't it?" Albert asked, figuring that Alfred could wax eloquent for hours.

Alfred smiled proudly and nodded as they came to a halt at the door to what Albert had been informed was the dining room. "Oh, yeah. We were the first ones to come here and build on this island, and every generation added something new. Grandfather was the one who brought it most of the art. We didn't get the formal Umbrella base until after he died, though."

"Dr. Alexander did that, didn't he?" Albert asked, and watched Alfred's face closely.

As he'd suspected, Alfred's lips turned down at the corners, and his mood dove at the mention of his father. "Yes, he did." That was the end of the boy's verbosity, until Albert pointed out a particularly impressive landscape painting and inquired about it.

Soon after that, Alexia returned. She eyed them for a moment, seeming pleased that the two of them were chatting companionably, and then approached them. "Dinner is almost ready, Dr. Wesker, if you want to freshen up a bit. Come, Alfred, I need your opinion on something." She beckoned to her brother, who obediently trotted after her, leaving Albert to make his way back to the room he'd been given for his stay.

After splashing some water over his face and giving his hair a quick comb, he casually descended the staircase and sauntered in the direction of the dining room. When he arrived, three places were set on the dining table (which he took a moment to admire; he wasn't exactly the type to go out antiquing, but he could certainly appreciate fine craftsmanship), which gave him a moment of pause. Just three? One of the Ashfords wouldn't be joining them for dinner, and he doubted it would be either of the twins. That just begged the question of where in the world Alexander was – he hadn't seen anything of the man since his arrival, which seemed odd even if he had already bequeathed his position in Umbrella to his children.

He couldn't take that train of thought much further, as soon Alexia and Alfred returned, both having changed clothing. Alexia bid him sit and he took the seat at her left, while Alfred sat at her right. The meal wasn't a particularly grandiose thing the likes of a formal event, but it was still well-prepared: a light salad dressed with vinegarette, herb-crusted lamb, and rice pilaf.

As they ate, the conversation remained light and inconsequential. However, as Albert drained the last wine out of his glass (merlot, his favorite) and Alfred pushed the last scraps of salad around on his plate, the question that had been lurking in his thoughts since the beginning came to Albert's lips. "Where is Dr. Alexander, by the way? I haven't seen him at all, and I was hoping to have a glance at some of his notes."

Immediately, Albert got two very mixed signals. Alfred tensed, frowning, and speared a cherry tomato with unnecessary force, so that the juice oozed out onto the tines of his fork. On the other hand, Alexia paused for a beat, as if hesitant, and her face fell. She looked down at her plate morosely. "Father is… ill. Very ill. He's spent the past few weeks in a hospital in Buenos Aires. It came on very suddenly, and we didn't have time to do much more than rush him to the nearest hospital in Argentina – they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him there, so he was transferred to a bigger hospital in the capitol." She sniffed very convincingly and brought up a hand to scrub her eyes.

If not for Alfred's reaction, Albert might have believed her. But since her brother, who Albert had established had no more acting skill than any other ten-year-old, showed no sign of the distress that she did, he knew it to be an act. A well-rehearsed one, for it was more convincing than the last time she'd tried to put on an act to win his sympathy.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Albert responded somberly, giving no hint that he'd seen through her façade.

Alexia smiled wanly. "It's all right. He's in the care of some of the best doctors in the world, so I have hope he'll recover." Behind her, Alfred pulled a face.

Their plates were then whisked away, and he was offered coffee or dessert, but he declined both politely. All three stood, and while Alfred immediately slipped away, Alexia turned to him with the smile back on her face. "If you're tired from the trip here feel free to retire, but if you still have a bit of energy, would you be interested in seeing some of my work?"

She certainly got to the point fast. "Since I'm used to working long nights, I'm not tired at all. Lead on," he said graciously, gesturing for her to precede him. She led him back to the staircase, and to a door that appeared to lead into a closet. Instead, when she opened it, before him was a plain cement-walled corridor that terminated with a ninety-degree turn, blocking the rest of the passage from view.

The corridor was a short one, leading only to an elevator equipped with a dialpad and the option to descent several stories underground. Alexia tapped in a long passkey and punched the button for the deepest level.

When they stepped out, his eyes were met with whitewashed walls and sterilized steel that was typical for every Umbrella lab. He could have been back in his own Arklay lab. Alexia led him deeper into the labyrinthine complex, until they got to a lab that was nearly the mirror of the place he'd left William earlier that day.

"Ever since I got those samples, I've been analyzing the crap out of them. I've gotten interesting results, to say the least. Were you working with Marcus when he first made it?" Alexia said, hopping onto a tall stool and gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Yes," he agreed, leaning against a lab bench across from her stool. "Marcus has been toying further with it since then, and William and I have been working with the strains he sends us along with a few variants of our own. Which strains did you receive?"

Alexia snatched up a sheet of paper on the bench behind her and handed it over. He scanned it and smirked. "To whom did you send the request, Marcus?"

"Yes. I figured since he was the creator he would have access to the best strands. Why?"

Albert chuckled and handed the sheet back. "He gave you his scraps. Marcus is a jealous old man, and he considers himself, me, and William to be the only ones 'worthy' to work with it. If you want better samples, I will assemble a few of the strains William and I have been working with and send them over."

Alexia frowned at the paper and slapped it back on the bench. "No wonder. Still, if what I have now are the inferior variants, I can only imagine what the good ones are like." A look of anticipation flashed through her eyes.

Albert regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. Previously, he hadn't been sure whether Alexia was actually the one running the lab here, as he had been informed, or if she was the leader in name only and her father or someone else was the one doing the real work. However, now, he realized it was true. "Have you only run analytic tests, or have you been tinkering with them?"

"Oh, I've been tinkering. I couldn't resist. Would you like to see?" She flashed her teeth in an eager grin, and for once Albert was reminded that she was a child, and not an adult in miniature.

"Certainly." Now to see if she was truly the prodigy she had said to be.

* * *

><p>Albert pulled the sheets back and relaxed onto the mattress, eyes heavy. Even though he was used to working into the early hours of the morning thanks to William's insomnia-fueled breakthroughs, he had been down in Alexia's private lab, going over her results and exchanging notes until they both were exhausted.<p>

One thing he could be sure of: Alexia was every bit the prodigy. He couldn't be sure that, once she got some experience working in the lab, that she wouldn't be even William's better, or Marcus'. Naturally, her youth and inexperience held her back, but in a few years' time, he predicted that she would come into her own and the Rockfort lab would become the premier research facility. How the rest would fall out remained to be seen; he was too tired to think of possible scenarios. For now, he would continue being a cordial guest, and once he got back to Raccoon, he would have much to contemplate.

It seemed like his eyes had just closed when his alarm clock went off. Groaning mentally, he got up to get ready, and took solace in the fact that Alexia would be equally sleep-deprived that morning. He knew he had dark circles under his eyes as he descended the staircase, trying not to let weariness drag his feet.

"Good morning. I didn't expect you to get up so early after our late night," Alexia greeted wryly when he appeared.

"I've done more on less sleep," he remarked by way of explanation, and sat in the seat she indicated. They were in a smaller dining area adjacent to the kitchens; a more casual setting for taking breakfast. "I take it your brother is still asleep?"

"He should be down soon."

They broke their fast quietly, no one energetic enough to be chatty. Once the plates were cleared away and Albert was nursing his second cup of coffee, everyone looked a bit more alive, Alexia turned to Albert.

"So, are you tired of the lab yet, or shall we pick up where we left off? I thought of something as I was drifting off and I'd like you to hear it."

He stood, coffee in hand, and gestured gallantly. "By all means."

They descended back into the research sector, and the room they had left just a few hours previous looked as they had left it: ordered chaos, with sheets of computer printouts and sheaves of electron microscope slides on all safe horizontal surfaces.

"So, answer a question for me. Since you were still working with Marcus when he first developed T, you know exactly what he did to derive it from Progenitor. Right?" Alexia plunked down on a stool, eying him with avid curiosity.

"William and I weren't in the room when he first made the breakthrough, but we know better than most. He had been tinkering with Progenitor for years and developed several widely variant strains. He had a habit of taking random animal test subjects and infecting them to see what the result was; one time he had a colony of leeches that he exposed to infected water. Some of them died, most lived, and none mutated noticeably. Progenitor had been known to be mutagenic to everything it affected, so William and I presumed that leeches were host-species and moved on.

"Marcus didn't. He observed an odd response from what passes as immune systems in the leeches. He kept sending us samples of dead leeches, but we discarded most of them, since there were no extracellular virions in those leeches that we could analyze. Eventually, he isolated the viral DNA from the leeches and cultivated it until he got a workable sample of virions – officially, tyrant rather than Progenitor. The DNA had mutated significantly as it worked its way through the leech colony."

By the time he was finished with his brief synopsis – really it hadn't been anywhere near that easy – Alexia's eyes were glued to his face, bright with fascination and eagerness. He raised an eyebrow wryly at her expression. "I hope that satisfies your curiosity."

"Oh, it does most definitely," she said, visibly calming herself down. "Thank you. I had requested copies of his notes when I asked Marcus for samples, but you can guess how well that turned out."

"Indeed. You have gotten yourself on his list of enemies faster than anyone else I know," he responded with a smirk.

Alexia frowned at the nearest stack of printouts. "I'm sure that will come back to bite me later."

Albert snorted. "Don't worry too much about Marcus. He's a recluse, and William and I are the only ones who listen to him on the off chance he'll come out with something remarkable again. We're doing most of the work and taking most of the credit for his discoveries; it's really rather surprising you found out that Marcus was the one to develop T, and not William."

"So who should I look out for?" Alexia asked, her voice now wary.

"Lord Spencer, first and foremost. He is insufferably arrogant to speak to, but if you tread carefully around only one person in this company, you will guard your tongue jealously around him. He is even more paranoid than Marcus, and if he has the slightest suspicion that you are up to something he doesn't like, the consequences will be severe."

Alexia nodded.

"After him, be wary of his pet Russian, Sergei Vladimir. You probably won't have much business with him yet, but if your research takes you where you're trying to go, you will encounter him more as time goes on. Treat Col. Vladimir with the same delicacy and he won't harass you."

"Okay…" Alexia's brow furrowed. "Let me guess: I should be just as wary of all the other head researchers?"

"Yes. Especially Bernard Chevalier and Adèle Lebeau, who lead the main lab in Paris. They, like William and I, lead one of the two main tyrant virus projects; they have influence, and more importantly, they have Spencer's ear. Marcus and Spencer have a rivalry of sorts, and where the North American labs are under Marcus' jurisdiction, the European labs are Spencer's. Make enemies of them and you can count on Spencer taking a dislike to you."

Once more, Alexia's head bobbed obediently. "Thank you for this advice, Dr. Wesker. If my father had been more involved he would have been able to tell me these things, but he spent most of his time closed up at home. He gave up hope of redeeming the Ashford name and hid away in the hope that if he stayed out of sight he wouldn't offend anyone further." A scowl threatened to pinch her features, but she schooled it.

Ah, how nice. She breached the subject herself and saved him the effort. "Speaking of him; what is he ill with? You didn't specify last night and I didn't want to press. I'm sure if he got to the Umbrella installation in Buenos Aires they would be able to help him much more than a normal hospital."

She tensed perceptibly and Albert mentally smirked. Caught her in the lie. "Oh… I'm not sure. The hospital he was in before he was transferred couldn't figure out what was wrong, and we haven't gotten much explanation from the hospital in Buenos Aires other than a general update on his condition. I… Alfred and I have been so upset that we have barely had the courage to read the hospital's messages."

He had to hand it to her: Alexia was good at weaving lies on the spot. A little polishing and she'd be nearly good enough to fool him. And now that he'd put her on the spot and proved to himself that she was lying, what to do? Should he call her out, or just let the fib slide? He was quite curious to know what had happened to the man.

Alexia, who had been looking at the benchtop to her left, raised her eyes, meeting his gaze as if checking to see if he believed her. She didn't outright ask, which was an improvement on the first encounter they had had weeks previous, but she wasn't quite there. For now, he decided to let her go on thinking she was getting away with it and see where things went.

He nodded solemnly. "I see. I apologize for bringing up a tender subject, but I am rather concerned. It would be awful for anything worse to happen that would leave you and your brother entirely on your own."

Alexia sniffed heartbrokenly and nodded. "It's all right." Had Albert not been looking, he wouldn't have seen the flash of relief pass briefly through her eyes.

* * *

><p>As Albert relaxed into the seat of the jet as it took off from Rockfort's airstrip, he smirked privately. He knew he had given Alexia plenty of food for thought, and she in turn had given him quite a bit to consider as well, through her reactions. She had told him more with what she didn't say than with what she did.<p>

She had been lying through her teeth both times she told him that Alexander was languishing in a hospital the capitol of Argentina. Of that, there was no doubt in his mind. He still didn't know whether that was her doing, or the machinations of another party that operated out of the shadows. On the surface, she seemed to be running her lab with all the efficiency anyone could hope, and there was no denying the fact that she was an extraordinarily gifted child.

The Umbrella base operated mostly independently of the Ashford holding, and the two entities on that island coexisted under an agreement of mutual tolerance, so there wasn't much there for the twins to meddle with. Alexia had probably warned her brother to keep aloof from the USS and UBCS soldiers going there to train; they seemed to be following Alexander's footsteps by not getting too involved with the aspects of Umbrella outside of their own sphere, and that was wise. Alexia was a bright child, but it would take time for her to learn how to successfully maneuver within the more complex politics of the company.

To that end, he had taken to dropping little bits of advice outside of the longer warning he had given. It wasn't entirely out of altruism; he was quite curious to see where Alexia was going to take her research, and if she did something to offend someone and attracted Spencer's ire, then he wouldn't be able to observe anything other than the USS storming the Ashford property and slaughtering them. And that was just no fun.

For now, he would very subtly take Alexia under his wing. She seemed responsive to his advice and urgings; wisely, she had realized that without someone who was used to Umbrella's inner workings to guide her, she wouldn't get far. And certainly, he was one of the few who had the foresight to see what she was capable of, and take her seriously in the early stages when her opinions and outlook were at their most malleable. For all that the research department was a nest of vipers, half of them hadn't the vision to look past their own research and see what could be gained by studying their peers.

That was their loss, and that was why Albert was where he was. There were many whose minds were eminently more suitable to the intensive research: the ones like William and Alexia. He knew and readily admitted that in that aspect, he was merely average. But he was where he was because he played to his strengths, and his strengths were uncommon things in the circle he prowled. That was his main advantage. Albert Wesker was a man who manipulated people like the other researchers manipulated their projects.

Behind the sunglasses perched on his nose, his eyes narrowed to slits in a smirk of self-satisfaction. He'd see where Alexia went with all her novel ideas, and if she lived up to the predictions he made, then he was in a position to become an even more influential figure in Umbrella. William had always been more or less under his thumb, and with Alexia looking to him as a mentor, as she grew into her abilities, he could easily work himself onto her team. There was no doubt that with her drive and cleverness, she would produce a breakthrough on par with Marcus' development of tyrant, and whose name would be next to hers on the formal report? His, of course.

He had every intention of earning that particular honor, though. For all Alexia's enthusiasm, she was still inexperienced, and she needed an experienced hand to keep her on the path to success. It would be like a repeat of his own rise to influence, under Marcus' guidance; that was not lost to him, and he smirked. He would have to be careful as time went on to be sure that Alexia did not pick up on too many of her mentor's more underhanded tricks and plot to betray him.

Not that Albert would _ever_ betray anyone in Umbrella. While they were still useful to him, of course.

* * *

><p><strong>I love getting reviews, guys! I love it even more when the reviews are <strong>_**signed**_** so that I can respond to them! I try to give each one a response, because you guys have a habit of giving me awesome suggestions. If any of the reviews I get aren't signed, and if I feel the need to respond, I'll put them in the ending AN. Like these!**

**Dokidoki: this is mostly focused on Wesker and Alexia, but I see no reason why I can't work Sergei in somehow.**

**And man, I'm **_**married**_** to the RE wiki, especially for this fic since I'm less familiar with the Code: Veronica people and places than I am with STARS.**

**Skip: aha, that may or may not have been the original idea behind this fic. Nothing will happen in that direction yet, for obvious reasons. But later on, who knows? -wink-**

**So in this chapter we saw more of everyone's favorite people. I hope you all like or at least tolerate my interpretations of their personalities. It's more difficult than one might think at first blush to properly portray someone who is physically, emotionally and chronologically ten years old, but cognitively twenty-five. I hope I did a decent job at encompassing those behaviors, understated they might be. Remember that, in the interactions, Alexia is well aware that she's interacting with someone older and smarter than she is, and so alters her own behavior to be more suitable to the situation. **Maybe sometime I can work in some interactions just between Alexia and Alfred to see how that turns out.**  
><strong>


	3. Reciprocate

"Why a helicopter? I bet we could have flown in on a plane and not on this big noisy wreck." Alfred was muttering to himself, shoulders hunched as if to cover his ears against the roar of the helicopter's blades chopping at the air.

Alexia smirked to herself, but mostly ignored him. He was just sulking because he didn't want to come this far from home just to see another underground lab. The one at home was empty and boring, so why should this one be any different? But Alexia knew better. This was a fully operational lab, the foremost in the country, and it would be vastly more exciting than her own modest complex back on Rockfort.

Leaning to the side, she could peer out the window. Below her, stained a beautiful shade of rosy pink by the rising sun, spread a forest made up mostly of evergreens: pines towered, stabbing their eternally shaggy boughs at the sky. Among them spread the broad-leafed trees; oak, poplar and sycamore spread their foliage in homage to the sun.

The trees rushed by for some time, until below she caught a glimpse of glinting metal and an expanse of tawny concrete. The helicopter slowed, tilting slightly, and lowered almost gingerly onto the landing pad marked out with streaks of paint. Alexia saw a single human figure standing a respectful distance away: black on black, with sunglasses ever perched on his nose. Alexia thought it odd that Wesker had a habit of wearing those dark shades even when he was inside. Well, it made him easy to pick out in a crowd, that was for certain.

She tugged on Alfred's arm and hopped out of the helicopter, immediately being buffeted by the turbulent wind spinning away from the blades. Wesker had stepped up to greet them, and turned with a silent wave to beckon them away from the landing pad. Had it been less noisy, Alexia would have been upset by what seemed very curt. Of course, part of that was just Wesker's nature, as she had come to realize.

Once they were away from the landing pad, Alexia could take a moment to admire the beautiful scenery. Rockfort was mostly devoid of much flora or fauna thanks to the paramilitary base, so it was a rare treat to be so immersed in ruggedly handsome nature. Mountainous terrain had always appealed to her more than other environments; that was, unless she was forced to camp in them for any longer than an hour.

"Welcome to the Arklay base," Wesker said, slowing so that he wasn't talking over his shoulder at them. "I hope the trip was smooth."

"It was, actually. I haven't had the chance to travel by helicopter much; it's an interesting change from planes," Alexia answered smoothly.

"A noisy change," Alfred muttered, waggling a finger in his ear.

"The helicopter was a necessary evil, I'm afraid. The nearest airstrip is the Raccoon airport, and though Umbrella has jets flying in and out regularly, it would have been impractical for you to fly in there with all the civilian traffic," Wesker explained. He meant it to sound apologetic, Alexia was sure, but his expressionless face and neutral tone didn't do much.

"It's quite all right. Well worth the chance to see a fully-functioning Umbrella base. Though I fear when we go back home, I'll never be content with the facility there again." She knew without turning to look that Alfred was making a face, and she was glad Wesker wasn't looking either. Even with the number of times she'd warned her brother to behave, he had little self-control. It was so frustrating.

Soon they came out of the sparse trees and the twins realized why the Arklay lab was more often referred to simply as "the mansion." Rising three stories off the ground was an edifice that, while not a match for the Ashford palace, was artistic in its own right. Alfred gaped at the mansion, and Alexia knew his heart had been won. He was a sucker for grand architecture.

Wesker paused, turning to look at them, when they didn't continue into the clearing that cupped the mansion's grounds. If she looked hard enough, Alexia might notice a faint upturn at the corner of Wesker's mouth. "Compared to your home, the mansion is hardly impressive," he commented wryly.

Alfred tore his eyes away at last. "It's still nice," he protested, clearly embarrassed that he'd been caught ogling.

"True. I suppose since you seem to like it that much, neither of you will mind staying in the residential rooms in the mansion proper," Wesker said, and Alfred tried so hard not to look excited.

Alexia smiled genuinely. "Of course not! I assume that's where the research team lives?"

Wesker waved them on, and once they overtook him he walked on. "Some of them. Most of us live in Raccoon itself and use the Ecliptic Express that runs between the city, here and the Training Facility to get around."

"Why would you live in some crowded city when there's a perfectly good place to stay right here?" Alfred asked, perplexed.

"Because the mansion wasn't designed to hold as many people as we have. The project has grown since the mansion itself was built, and because this is the 'public' edifice that hides the existence of the lab, we can't alter it easily. Also, since Umbrella has a presence throughout the city, they own several apartment complexes in Raccoon and offer discounts to employees that live in them."

Wesker pushed the front doors of the mansion open, and Alexia was hard-pressed to keep her excitement at bay. The more she learned about this facility, the more she wanted to see. If they had so many people here that a place this size couldn't hold all of them – and if the company had such a strong hold over the city nearby… the possibilities were endless.

"Would you prefer to have a look around the mansion first?" Wesker asked, looking at Alfred. Her poor brother was trying not to look around in avid curiosity and failing badly.

Alfred perked up and looked to Alexia. Oh, he was giving her the puppy eyes. He knew how much architecture bored her, just as much as her "science" bored him. "Is there a way for one of us to do that, and the other to go down to the labs?" she asked, turning to Wesker hopefully. Anything to get out of looking at boring art…

"Not unless one of you were to find someone else to guide you. The lab and the mansion are easy places to find yourself lost, and without security clearance, you wouldn't be able to go much of anywhere."

Alexia ignored the hopeful look Alfred was giving her. "We'll have plenty of time to explore the mansion later, right?" At Wesker's impassive nod, she smiled. "Then if you don't mind, I'd like to see the labs." If Alfred looked disappointed, she didn't see it, and instead followed as Wesker strode off.

As it turned out, they got a truncated, partial tour of the mansion anyway, since for some reason Alexia didn't quite understand, Wesker led them through part of the mansion before they finally got to where the labs took over. Alexia had no hope of retracing their path; this place was even more convoluted than her labs at home! Then again, the whole place was designed to be completely secret, and if they were going to keep trespassers from infiltrating the lab, they needed to make it nearly impossible.

"Who designed this place?" Alfred asked in wonderment as they rode an elevator down to the main floor of the lab.

"A man by the name of George Trevor. He has been dead for nearly fifteen years," Wesker said, smirking slightly at the way Alfred's face lifted slightly and then fell when he learned the man was dead. "He specialized in creating boobytraps, hidden passages, and secret rooms in his designs, and Lord Spencer paid him well to make the mansion un-navigable except by the ones who know the floor-plan. Even the researchers who live here have to be careful not to detour into a boobytrap. Overseeing the construction of this mansion was Trevor's last act, if the records are to be believed."

If that wasn't ominous, Alexia didn't know what was. "How did he die?"

Wesker shrugged. "I don't know. I never looked that closely at the file."

Translation: ask me when we're not twenty feet deep in other Umbrella secrets and I might tell you. Alexia wasn't as naïve as Wesker seemed to think her. She could read between the lines of his evasive responses quite well, thank you.

The elevator doors slid open, and Wesker led them down a hallway that looked so much like the network of corridors under the Ashford palace that, at first, Alexia was confused. But as they passed what looked like the offices of the higher-ranking researchers, the bemusement faded.

Wesker suddenly developed a hitch in his step and halted. Alexia looked up to see his brows disappear beneath his shades as he frowned, lips tight. "I'll be back, wait here," he said lowly, then strode stiffly toward an open door just down the hall. Something had irritated him, evidently.

The twins hurried forward and pressed themselves against the wall next to the open door – the door to Wesker's office, as Alexia noted from the placard on the wall – and listened to the conversation going on inside.

The first voice Alexia heard was unfamiliar – a deep, bass rasp that spoke a language she recognized but knew nothing of: Russian. "Вам дали точные заказы, котор нужно не продолжать с испытывать вариант альфаы, или имею рапорт от вашей команды что вы имеете людской объект испытания в реальном маштабе времени. Что смысль этого?"

Wesker spoke then, but to her frustration he responded in the same tongue. "Я нет одного, котор нужно обвинить для той ошибки, полковника. Я был с основания когда одно из моего partner' работники s вытерпели случайное облучение к напряжению. Он имел человека быть изолированным как пример. Имел я, котор будут здесь вовремя я положил бы человека вниз." Alexia had no idea what he was saying, but she could tell from the tense quality to his voice that he was angry, and working very hard to conceal it. The fact that she could hear his irritation was an indicator of the severity of his foul mood.

"Уверено вы и ваш соучастник не совершает такая же ошибка снова, друг. Следующее время я не буду будьте добры." The stranger's answer was spoken in a dark, warning tone that sounded even more menacing for his gravelly voice. Then, Alexia heard heavy boots scraping and clumping against the floor and she quickly shoved Alfred away from her and down the hall. It wouldn't do for them to be caught eavesdropping.

The person that exited Wesker's office was a mountain of a man with long silver hair. The huge man bore scars on his face that pulled his right eye into a blind squint, but the other eye was dark and piercing. He stared at them for a moment, brows beetling in confusion, then turned to Wesker as the much younger man oozed out of his office.

"Comrade, what are these children doing here?" the towering man rumbled ominously. Alexia was thankful that he was speaking English, even if it was thickly accented.

Clearly, the twins were the last people Wesker wanted to see lingering in the hallway, looking guilty. "Those are Alexia and Alfred Ashford, Colonel. They took over from Dr. Alexander on Rockfort island, if you'll recall."

Alexia took a small step forward. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. You must be Sergei Vladimir."

Sergei's eyebrows drifted slowly up his forehead. "Yes, I am. I did not expect to see the commander of an important installation so far from home. What brings you to Comrade Wesker's laboratory?"

"A short visit, sir, that's all. I wanted to see what a fully-functioning research lab was like, since the facilities I have on Rockfort are rather limited at the moment." Alexia smiled winningly, hoping the displeasure in Sergei's thunderous voice would fade. Even without the warning Wesker had given her not to get on this man's bad side, all her instincts were telling her not to cross him.

"Mh, yes. My officers on the training grounds tell me that you are doing your own experimentations on the Ashford property." His lips pulled back into what was probably supposed to be a smile, but looked like a wolf baring its teeth in a silent snarl. "I am pleased to see the next generation of Umbrella's youth showing such great interest in maintaining the company's great name. Soon I should like to visit your base myself, but now I have other work to do. I bid you a good day, Comrades." Stepping back to look at Wesker, he gave a curt nod, and swept off down the hall, taking up almost all the space.

Once the elevator doors slid closed, Alfred took in and expelled a shaky breath and leaned against the wall. Alexia looked up at Wesker's stoic face. "I see what you meant about him. He's rather intimidating."

"Rather infuriating, you mean," Wesker growled, lips tight. "I need to make a call." With that, he turned on his heel and stormed back into his office, all but slamming the door.

"What do you think that big guy said to make him so mad?" Alfred wondered aloud, looking just as perplexed as Alexia felt. In the few encounters she'd had with Wesker, she had gotten used to his impassive and largely emotionless affect, and to see and hear him so overtly angry was slightly shocking.

"I have no idea, Alfred. I don't think we want to know," Alexia remarked candidly.

Wesker was not so angry that he raised his voice, so even though Alexia pressed her ear to the door, she couldn't hear anything other than muffled voice-sounds, and nothing intelligible. When his voice stopped and she vaguely heard him replace the receiver in its cradle, she backed up and put on her most innocent expression.

Wesker emerged once more from his office, shutting the door behind him, and shot the twins a glance that might have been apologetic. "I'm sorry for that interruption. Col. Vladimir delights in pushing my buttons."

"What was the issue?" Alexia asked, trying to balance manners with her insatiable curiosity. She wasn't used to workplace politics going on in a lab setting, and she was hungry to know everything she could.

Wesker studied her for a moment before saying, "Follow me and I'll show you." He turned on his heel and strode off down the hall, and Alexia eagerly trotted after him. Even Alfred looked interested as they went around a turn and to another elevator, which carried them deeper underground to the farthest basement level.

The temperature was noticeably cooler. That was the only real indication that they were deep beneath the earth's surface, since this part of the lab was lit and furnished exactly as the others were. However, there was a stark difference between the two sectors: where they had been before was the administrative area, whereas this had the look of storage. High-security storage. It had the feel of a prison in some ways, and Alexia felt Alfred press closer to her uneasily.

As they proceeded, muffled sounds became audible: mostly, restless grunts and growls. Alexia's heartbeat sped up. This was where they kept their test subjects!

Wesker took them to the end of a short hallway. Each of the doors along this corridor were reinforced, and locked with fingerprint scanners. He stopped at the last door and pressed his thumb to the pad. The door unlocked with a heavy sound and hissed open. Alexia hurried after him, trailed by a wary Alfred who bit back a yelp when the door slid closed behind him.

Alexia's attention went immediately to the rear of the room, where a thick observation window looked into a cement-walled chamber empty except for a single, dark shape. She blinked when Wesker flicked the lights on in the observation room; inside the chamber, a single light also flickered on, illuminating its lone occupant. Alexia sucked in a breath.

No sound came through to them from the cell, but Alexia imagined that the creature gave a low groan of protest to accompany the motion of shrinking away from the sudden light. It was once a human, a largely unremarkable adult male, and it still largely resembled its former life. However, its skin was mostly gone, revealing underlying muscle still with scraps of subcutaneous fat clinging to it near where skin still remained. Its eyes were shot with blood, turning even its scleras crimson.

The zombie recovered from the momentary light-blindness and turned in place, confused, until it was facing the window. It began shuffling forward, and Alexia watched it, fascinated, as it approached until it was mere inches from the glass.

"It's a one-way mirror on the other side. This type of infected relies almost entirely on sight and smell, so even though it sees its reflection, unless it hears or smells something like prey it won't do anything," Wesker said.

Since the creature had soon given up examining whatever it saw in the glass, it had turned once more, shuffled sluggishly back to the middle of the room and gone back to standing eerily still. "Odd. I thought they tended to be especially aggressive."

"They are, especially this strain. That's why it's in a solitary, sound-proofed holding cell. When no prey is immediately available they go into a semi-dormant state to conserve energy."

"What happens when they think there's prey nearby?"

Wesker almost smirked. "Try tapping on the glass and you'll see."

Alfred looked at Wesker as if concerned that the man was insane, but Alexia knew it was perfectly safe. So she stepped over to the observation window, raised her hand, and rapped her knuckled on the glass.

No sooner had she pulled her hand back to tap a second time when something hit the glass with a boom.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliff-hanger, dun dun duuuuuhh!<strong>

**No one attempt to translate that Russian. I put it through the Yahoo translator so it's going to be garble. -lazy- and yes, I did up the rating, since zombies are a bit too gruesome for K. I knew my lowest-rated RE fic wouldn't stay that way for long. XD**

**Dokidoki: you sorta spammed my inbox with review alerts, but as soon as I saw that devART page I forgave you and spent the next hour or so laughing my head off. Thanks for the link!**

**Everyone needs to look at this comic because it works so well with this fic. (edit out the spaces; FFN tried to eat the link)**

** http:/ practicalal. deviantart. com/ gallery/ #/ d1zifcf  
><strong>


	4. Learning

Alexia jumped back with a little scream as the zombie clawed at the glass right where she was, raking its nails and even biting futilely at the smooth barrier. Soon the glass was streaked with the ghoul's partially-clotted blood, making it difficult to see the creature assaulting the quivering pane of Plexiglas.

The most unnerving thing was that, other than the shuddering of the glass, no sound reached them from inside the chamber. When Wesker spoke, it almost startled Alexia. "This variant shows vastly improved performance from the muscle systems, but there are still several problems with it. It's stronger, faster, and more coordinated than the other strains, but just as fragile. Just by flexing its muscles, it could crack or break its own bones. We still need to give them more skeletal integrity before they become as functional as the Hunter line."

Soon, the near-silent blows stopped raining down on the glass. Alexia moved to the side to see around the wide, frantic smear of blood and watched the creature retreat back to the center of the room. It was twitching fitfully, as if in pain, though Alexia suspected its diseased brain was not receiving tactile input from the nerves that still functioned. It moved gingerly, and its arms hung at its sides. "It just mangled its own arms, didn't it," she muttered, furrowing her brows at its odd posture.

"From the look of it, yes," Wesker responded. Why did he sound _bored?_ This was remarkable!

Oh, right. He'd been working with human test subjects for a while. Tyrant was nothing new to him. Alexia tried not to be jealous.

"Is this the only specimen you have for this strain?" she asked instead, turning to look at Wesker.

"Yes."

"And you just let it damage itself?" Were these subjects so easy to come by?

"That thing is the reason I had to deal with Sergei," Wesker retorted, thinning his lips. "That strain is far too volatile for animal testing yet. Have you noticed anything unusual about it? Have a closer look at what it's wearing."

Alexia looked into the chamber once more, and under the layers of blood streaked and dribbled over it, she noticed an article that might have once been a white, long-sleeved lab coat. "This was a researcher?" She looked back at Wesker sharply.

"He made one, minor mistake while working with a hot sample. I was visiting you in Rockfort at the time, but when I returned, William told me that Dr. Kimmel here had a pinhole in his latex gloves."

"A pinhole," Alfred breathed. His face was pale; his expression showed horrified awe.

"The strains we have been working with are much too easily communicated. _That_ nearly caused an outbreak within the lab," Wesker said, pointing to the wobbling zombie behind the glass. "We nearly lost an entire research team. Some of them are still in the level 5 medical wing under observation."

_Well, I stand chastened,_ Alexia thought to herself. She looked back through the glass, and her brows furrowed in confusion over what she saw. The creature inside was swaying drunkenly, and before her eyes it collapsed, falling into a limp mound on the floor.

"Good, it's nearly dead," Wesker observed. When Alexia glanced at him for an explanation, he continued, "Because they have improved strength and speed, they have faster metabolisms than normal zombies. If they stay dormant they can last for some time, but after the outburst that thing just had it should be on its last legs, since we haven't fed it."

"So you're just going to let it die on its own?"

"It's the most efficient thing to do. We've been able to gather useful data from it, but because it's too hazardous to work with in close quarters, there's not much more we can do. It's safer to let it waste away like this."

Alexia took one last glance at the unmoving zombie before she indicated with a gesture that she was ready to leave; Alfred beat them out of the room, having gone a little green from staring too long at the smears of blood on the observation window. As they returned the way they came, Alexia cast a wistful glance over her shoulder. "Do you have functioning animal specimens for the other strains?"

"Some, yes. However, this is a research and development lab, so we do not keep many live subjects for long. If they survive and are viable, the hot samples are sent to the production facilities and we only keep cold samples for our records. Since most of the BOW we design are meant as cannon-fodder there isn't much need to keep them alive for long-term observation and testing."

"I would be interested to see the other live subjects you keep, all the same," Alexia announced.

Right then, Alfred pulled a face; partially because he wasn't so sure he wanted to see something like that zombie again, but also because his stomach gave a gurgle that was not due to nausea. Alexia looked to her brother and smiled slightly. "Actually, I'm starting to get hungry too. Would it be possible for us to get food? Alfred and I haven't eaten since we left Rockfort."

Wesker nodded. "Of course." With that he turned, leading them back to the same elevator, and riding it up to the floor they had recently left. He took them through a new door and down a new hall; a few more turns that had Alexia's head spinning with the size of the place, and Wesker was holding open the door to what appeared to be a cafeteria.

"The staff should have just set out hot food for lunch, so help yourselves," Wesker said after glancing at his watch. The twins trotted into the line with eyes wide open, both in a bit of awe at the fact that the facility boasted a full cafeteria. It made sense, but it was just another clue to the scale of this place.

They brought their food to the small table Wesker had staked out. "You aren't eating?" Alexia asked curiously.

"I'm not hungry."

Alexia sat down and dug in, curious as to the quality of the food served here. To her pleasant surprise, it was pretty good. "I take it you ate here before we arrived?"

"I ate at my apartment." Oh, right. He lived outside the lab. "Most of the researchers who live in Raccoon itself eat there. The food in this cafeteria is nutritious, but it gets old after you've been here long enough."

Alexia contemplated her plate. "The city must have a wide variety of options available."

"Yes. In fact, I had planned for us to go out to dinner, once we're done here for the day."

Alfred perked up slightly. "What kinds of restaurants are there in Raccoon City?"

"Essentially, everything." Wesker sipped idly from his glass of water. "I know most of the decent restaurants in town, so you two can have your pick when we go to dinner."

That definitely pleased Alfred. Her twin brother was even happier when, once lunch was finished, Wesker informed them that they could go on that tour of the mansion now. Evidently, Alexia's curiosity would have to wait. She couldn't stay too upset, given Alfred's eager smile as they left the cafeteria.

And as it turned out, exploring the mansion's maze of passages and rooms wasn't as excruciatingly boring as she had expected; with the number of booby-traps waiting to spring on the unwary, it was something of an adventure.

Especially when Wesker "forgot" about one of them that slammed a set of iron bars across the door and triggered the ceiling to drop.

He was able to deactivate the trap so quickly that they barely had time to panic, but after that, the twins stayed prudently back until Wesker entered the subsequent rooms. And Alexia could have sworn that she saw the ghost of a smirk hovering about Wesker's face for a few minutes after that little mishap.

It was late enough after they finished the tour that neither of the Ashfords minded taking a moment to freshen up and change before they headed to dinner. While the older researcher waited patiently, the twins took turns in the bathroom.

"What do you think, so far?" Alexia asked the bathroom door.

"It's interesting," Alfred answered from the other side. "This mansion is pretty great."

Alexia chuckled to herself. She had noticed the look of wonderment on Alfred's face; she knew that if Wesker had offered for them to stay and explore the mansion for a week, her brother would have jumped for joy. "Yeah, it was all right. I'm just sorry we didn't stay in the labs for long." But, hopefully, there would be more time for that tomorrow.

Alfred made a rude noise as he emerged from the bathroom. "Maybe you are," he muttered, "but I was glad to leave. That places smells even more like latex and hospitals than your lab at home."

She had to giggle at the way he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Was it really the smell, Alfred? You looked like you were about to be sick everywhere when we saw that test subject."

He retched. "I have been _trying_ to forget about that for hours, Alexia!" Alfred whined.

Since the thought seemed to sincerely distress him, Alexia dropped the subject and bounced to her feet. "Sorry, Alfred. Let's go. I'm interested to see Raccoon – Dr. Wesker says it's pretty much Umbrella's city."

They followed their host to the Ecliptic Express station near the mansion, and boarded it with him. Though they had both traveled enough to be familiar with such modes of transportation, it was still somewhat of a novelty, despite the fact that there was nothing to see but darkness through the windows.

After that, it was but a short walk to Wesker's car. Soon, they were riding on the interstate into town. "Do either of you have a preference for where we eat?" Wesker called back to them.

Alfred (as usual) shrugged and left the decision to Alexia. She pondered for a moment, then leaned forward. "Are there any good Italian restaurants?"

"Several. And my personal favorite is close by."

Alecia was pleased. She usually wasn't reassured by the statement "It's my favorite," since she most often heard it from Alfred, who was like most ten-year-old boys and had a singularly peculiar taste. But she trusted Wesker's taste much more, especially for good Italian.

As it turned out, the restaurant didn't look like much from the outside. It had recently rained, making the humid air heavy with wisps of mist that lifted off the pavement. The muggy city air was not something the twins were used to. Wesker raised an eyebrow at Alfred's cough, and shrugged. "The air here is much cleaner than many other cities I have visited," he remarked. They followed him inside, ready to be out of the humidity.

As they followed the host to a table, Alexia had to wonder what this looked like to the passers-by. Probably, a grad student taking out young siblings or cousins, perhaps babysitting. Certainly Wesker's fair coloring made him look superficially as if he were related to the twins. She quickly shook off that thought and ordered two glasses of water from the server before Alfred could open his mouth to get a soda. She ignored his glare and turned her attention to Wesker. "Thank you for doing this, Dr. Wesker."

He nodded, taking off his sunglasses to clean them and fold them on the table. "It's nothing. I go out fairly often anyway; I'm at the lab so much that I barely have time to cook for myself when I'm at home." Wesker folded his hands on the table and regarded her neutrally.

It was unusual enough for Wesker to set aside his sunglasses that Alexia found herself slightly unnerved. His eyes were so pale that it was impossible to see his irises at all in the dim light of the restaurant. The resulting effect, of sclera giving way directly to pupil, gave him a singularly piercing gaze that he no doubt cultivated. Wesker struck her as the sort to deliberately make himself intimidating to others.

Alexia smiled sweetly at the server who brought them their drinks, and was rewarded with a dimply smile from the waitress in return. Wesker could use intimidation tactics all he wanted; Alexia would use her girlish charms to disarm people. She knew how to make it work.

If it hadn't been for Wesker's solemn presence, Alexia was sure she would have had the waitress completely charmed by the end of the meal. It felt good to exercise her skills on people who didn't already know what they were getting into. Even so, despite the fact that every time Wesker's voice droned out from the slightly shaded corner in which he sat the waitress started slightly, the young woman was grinning and perky when she came to the table, all her attention on the twins. They got frequent refills, and eventually, Alfred even got his soda.

Once the waitress finally left the bill on the table, Wesker took it up and levelled a look at Alexia. She answered the searching glance with another angelic smile. He had caught on to her ploy early on. And she was well aware that he had caught on. That was the intention, in fact. She was showing him that he wasn't the only one who could manipulate people.

With the bill paid, they retired to the car, and Wesker drove them back toward the Arklay lab. "Aren't you done for the day?" Alfred ventured, mildly confused, when Wesker explained that he would be staying at the lab, rather than just dropping them off.

"I have a lot of work to get done, especially after the Colonel's surprise visit today." He did not sound pleased with that prospect. "We've been running some time-consuming tests on our latest strains, and I need to check on them before anything else gets done. I'm fairly certain that at least one will have to go through again, which will take another eight hours of babysitting the machines."

"What about your partner, William?" As Alexia asked the question, Alfred performed a fair imitation of the sour expression for which William Birkin was practically famous.

"William was running them today while I was with you."

There was a stretch of silence, in which Alexia was contemplating how to phrase her next question, when Wesker beat her to the punch. "You are welcome to come down to the lab and assist me with the tests, if you desire," he stated, looking over his shades into the rear-view mirror that reflected her face. "Your lab does not have the equipment we do at Arklay, but when you do start to acquire them, it would be prudent for you to have some experience with these techniques."

That was one of the few times she did not mind that he seemed to have the ability to read her thoughts. "I would like that very much, thank you," she said instead. Alfred rolled his eyes.

Since the twins still had no idea how to successfully navigate the mansion, Wesker escorted them to their room so that Alfred could retire. He gave his sister a pitiful look, silently begging her not to go back down to the labs, but she merely wished him a good night and trailed after Wesker once more.

In the research sector of the lab (which Alexia had realized was unbelievably huge, perfectly concealed with its entirely underground) she and her host ran into William Birkin, who was walking down the hall toward them in the company of a young woman with chin-length, pale hair. Birkin looked up and made as if to speak, but the sight of Alexia turned his expression to stone.

"William, Annette," Wesker greeted, nodding o the pair. "Any progress?"

Birkin's jaw was clenched shut. Seeing that her companion was silent, the woman spoke up for him. "We've completed the first round of analyses on the latest strains, Dr. Wesker. The C-series sample came up inconclusive, as we expected."

Wesker nodded. "Very well. I will take over from here." Alexia was slightly astonished to see a sly grin touch her host's features. "Enjoy your date."

The woman flushed slightly, and Birkin quickly grabbed her wrist and strode off. Once they were out of sight, Wesker chuckled under his breath. Alexia trotted after him, looking back over her shoulder once or twice.

"'Date?'" she echoed curiously.

"Workplace romance," Wesker said, still smirking to himself. What he found so amusing was a mystery to Alexia. Apparently it was an adult thing.

They got to the largish lab that had Wesker and Birkin's names on placards beside the door. Alexia couldn't help but look around in envy at the equipment that the lab boasted. This facility was on the cutting edge, even in Umbrella. The public at large wouldn't see technology like it for a decade, at least. She came up behind Wesker, who was looking through a stack of printouts, presumably from the tests Birkin and his companion had just been running. The little she could see of the reports was enough gibberish to make them completely uninformative, so she found a nearby lab bench that contained familiar instruments and began imposing a level of order to the cluttered benchtop. She personally couldn't stand her workspaces to be messy, though apparently Birkin was more hasty and careless. She wondered how he hadn't wrecked something yet through slobbishness.

"Thank you," she heard, and turned to see Wesker giving her a look of mild surprise. She smiled into those pale eyes, unshielded now by sunglasses, and accepted the research folder he handed her.

"Those notes are on the strains we are working with right now, specifically. While I set up the machine for another round of tests, feel free to read those over." Eager curiosity had her eyes glued to the research notes even before Wesker had left the room.

* * *

><p><strong>hey look, Desert's alive! <strong>_**gasp! **_**since it's winter break and i have a laptop again, i'll be able to get a tiny bit of writing in. this is prolly all i'll be able to produce that's worth publishing, but it's better than nothing.**

**i hope you lot continue to enjoy this. like a lot of my recent stuff, this is mostly interaction-based rather than driven by any specific plot, though there is an ultimate purpose behind this. if i get to the Code: Veronica timeline in this fic things will pick up; right now i'm just developing the characters and their relationships to everything in their respective worlds. my writing is developing, and at the moment, i'm mostly working on characterization; that is, for me, even more important to a story than a plot. you can have something interesting to read that has no real direction, but if the characters are flat and generic, it drags down even the most exciting plot.**


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